


Welcome Home

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Series: Welcome Home Multiverse [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Afterlife, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heart Pain, Sweet Clones, Sweet Qui-Gon, lots of comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-10-17 06:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10588197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Reunion with a friend long gone. The afterlife is not what Obi-Wan expected, but then, when do things ever go according to plan?I would describe this story as safe for those of you who like my writing style, but usually avoid my stories due to torture reasons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [White_Ithiliel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Ithiliel/gifts).



> I am off to Celebration! I won't be posting anything until after I've gotten back and unpacked again. And after I've gathered my poor, scattered brains up from wherever they've been splattered.
> 
> Hayden Christensen is going to be there. On stage. What. I've been planning this trip for over a year, and absolutely losing my mind over it, and then the announcement Mr. I-Gave-My-Face-To-Anakin-Skywalker was going to grace us with his presence hit, and I couldn't believe my eyes. If I can't get Ewan McGregor at Celebration, I'd so definitely settle for what we're getting. Damn, I would have been happy without! Now I'm completely bewildered.
> 
> Also, Timothy Zahn is giving a talk on writing, it's one of those Star Wars College things. I'm bringing a notebook. Yes please, Mr.-I-Invented-Thrawn.
> 
> Also, the Thrawn novel comes out tomorrow. Also: What. I desperately wanted Zahn to write for Star Wars in the new canon, and not only did he do that, he did what I thought would never, ever happen again. He wrote about Thrawn. Yeah. I watched the Rebels panel from Celebration in London last year with the Live Stream, and I'm one of the people who was practically in tears of joy over Thrawn's return. I have got to write more stories including him, I love that guy.
> 
> So... the point of this was to let everyone know I'm going to be gone for a while. For the couple of you out there who might actually notice. ;-)

 

 

Anakin's arms around him trembled, Anakin's soothing whispers shook.

Obi-Wan clung to them, to  _ him,  _ grateful for his presence.

Anakin was actually taking the effort to calm his own mind, attempting to ease Obi-Wan's passage instead of railing against it.

Anakin's heartbeat, steady against his ear, gave Obi-Wan something to focus on as time stretched long and strange.

For a breath, the pain stilled, and then it was  _ back,  _ worse than ever, worse than  _ anything  _ Obi-Wan had ever endured in his life.

“How long is it supposed to  _ take _ ?” he demanded, trying to  _ see,  _ but his vision had grown fuzzy long minutes ago and wasn't improving now.

“Easy,” a familiar voice soothed. “I've got you. Easy, Obi-Wan.”

And now his hearing was going too, because Anakin's voice was twisted into an echo of something long gone. Anakin moved one hand to cradle Obi-Wan's head. The hand was far too big for Anakin's.

Obi-Wan squinted up at the face of the owner, could see the outline of long, straight hair.

“Anakin,” he mumbled. The picture wasn't matching.

“Rest, Padawan.”

“I—” Obi-Wan gasped in another breath, horrified by the sheer weight of  _ torment  _ that twisted his body. “I'm not  _ dead,  _ because I wouldn't  _ hurt— _ ”

“The pain isn't yours.” The words were a gentle rumble. “It's Anakin's grief.”

Obi-Wan tried to simply endure, to make sense of it all— he was  _ clearly  _ hallucinating.

“Easy,” the voice crooned again. “Fighting makes it worse. Accept it. It will leave once he falls asleep. Give it time, and it will go away almost entirely.”

A groan tore through Obi-Wan's unwilling lips before he could master his lungs enough to spit out, “How  _ much  _ time?”

“You are very loved, by many people.”

A foul oath escaped Obi-Wan. He could sense he'd startled the one holding him. Anakin wouldn't be shocked by  _ that.  _ He'd  _ heard  _ it before.

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, trying to reach out with the Force—

The arms still sheltering him, still bracing him against the future no longer belonged to Anakin.

It was a  _ different  _ embrace. An old one. One Obi-Wan's heart had been aching to return to for years over a decade.

The signature he found brushing against his mind was  _ not  _ Anakin's.

And in all of the crazy things his brain had done to him over the years, it had  _ never  _ managed to get  _ that  _ right.

“You're—  _ you're— _ ” he stuttered, his heart caught in his throat.

His eyes cleared.

“I missed you,” Qui-Gon Jinn murmured.

Obi-Wan looked around, but his gaze was unable to focus on anything but Qui-Gon. It was rather disorienting. “I don't—” he muffled a cry— “understand. When did— I didn't know when—”

“When you crossed over? That's alright. It's not important.”

_ I'm dead. _

Obi-Wan could feel the truth of it.

But,  _ Force,  _ this was  _ not  _ what he'd expected.

The convulsing pain threatened to shatter his mind, it hurt so terribly. Obi-Wan shivered and clung to his master, horrified by the implications.

“ _ Force,  _ Qui-Gon, how long did I incapacitate you after your death?”

Such  _ love  _ reached out and curled around Obi-Wan, attempting to ease away every worry and ache and regret. His master pressed a kiss to the top of his head, not saying a word.

A sob caught in Obi-Wan's throat as, despite the pain, he felt  _ safe  _ for the first time since Qui-Gon had rejected him for Anakin so long ago.

Qui-Gon kept up a steady stream of comforting murmurs. “You're safe. You're here. You're with me now, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan sighed, so ready for the pain to be  _ done. _ Wasn't death supposed to  _ relieve  _ that? Put an  _ end  _ to the suffering? “You said it will go away when he falls asleep?”

“Unless he has nightmares where he's missing you, you'll have a respite. As long as someone else who loves you isn't awake and feeling the pain of your loss.”  
“ _ Frip. _ ”

Again, the surprise in his master.

“Weeks of this,” Obi-Wan panted, almost  _ resenting  _ Anakin for it—  _ No, no, that's not right— _

“Weeks?” Qui-Gon echoed, surprised. “You think Anakin cares for you so little? This will hurt him much longer than that.”

_ Aren't I lucky.  _ “And Ahsoka will  _ add  _ to this, make it  _ worse— _ ” His back arched, his head snapped forward, a low keen escaping him.

“I should warn you,” Qui-Gon sounded concerned, “anyone else who loved you will add to it. Anakin hasn't had a chance to notify anyone yet.”  
Utter  _ panic  _ flooded Obi-Wan's system.  _ I can't take more of this. _

Anakin's grief was going to  _ break  _ him, adding  _ anything  _ to it would simply take away any hope of surviving it.

_ Poor choice of words. _

“ _ Hide  _ me somewhere,” Obi-Wan pleaded, feeling like a child again.  _ Save me from this. Please. _

“You are stronger than you know,” Qui-Gon whispered, his voice unsteady, his grip tightening on his apprentice.

_ Frip that.  _ “I should have known my mistakes would catch up to me.”  _ Sleep in death was far too good a thing to hope for. _

“You're not being  _ punished, _ ” Qui-Gon protested, sounding horrified. “Obi-Wan, you're one with the Force now. There is no buffer between you and it anymore, nothing to shield you. Anything that twists through it will affect you. Most of it will go right by, you'll sense it, but it won't be a problem. But when it's the heart pain of people who love you, and it's  _ aimed  _ for you, it's going to be funneled straight into you.”

_ It frakking hunts me down?  _ “There's no way to avoid it?”

“Not that I've found.”

Obi-Wan squinted his eyes open to find Qui-Gon watching him with such love, such  _ compassion— _

A faint wail of heartbreak echoed through Obi-Wan's soul, blanking out his mind with the force of it.

_ My poor Anakin.  _ Silent tears tracked down his cheeks.  _ I hear you. _

“As time goes on you'll begin to differentiate where it's coming from,” Qui-Gon explained. “There's different... timbres to the pain. That's how you'll know who it is who's grieving for you any given moment.”

Exhausted, Obi-Wan shook his head. “How much have you seen? So much has happened since you left us.”

“I saw enough to know you've become the man I knew you would.”

Obi-Wan pushed away, scrambling out of Qui-Gon's embrace, bracing himself on all fours when he found himself too dizzy to stand. He turned his head away from Qui-Gon. “That much at least is true.” His voice was bitter despite his best efforts as he tried to still the tears.

A massive hand rested on his back.

“You misunderstand,” Qui-Gon murmured. “I couldn't be more proud of you.”  
“Don't mock me. I don't need to be coddled. I'm dead, for Force's sake.” Obi-Wan shoved himself to his feet, trying to ignore the agony twisting through him from Anakin, ignore the headache that came from having  _ this  _ conversation with Qui-Gon. “Is there some place I can watch over Anakin from? I need to—”

“ _ Obi-Wan. _ ”

The younger man closed his eyes again, unwilling to look back.

“You don't know how many times I wished you could hear me tell you it's not your fault.”  
“That _ what  _ isn't?”  
“All of it.”

“Rather vague,” Obi-Wan muttered.

The hand turned him around as if he were nineteen again. “Ahsoka leaving.”

Obi-Wan's jaw snapped shut.

“Anakin's anger struggles. Shmi's death. The war. Dooku's fall. The two hundred Jedi who died on Geonosis trying to rescue you. My death. Tahl's. Anakin's refusal to forgive you after your deep cover mission. Quinlan's struggle against losing himself, Ventress' death, Quinlan's heartbreak. Satine's death. Every clone lost under your command.”

It was becoming harder to endure the quiet list.

“Obi-Wan, each step of the way, you gave everything you had to give. You did your best. That is all  _ anyone  _ can ever do.”

“It was never enough.”

“That is  _ not  _ true. I don't believe it, Anakin doesn't, Ahsoka doesn't, Yoda doesn't.”

“Dooku does.”  
“Your grand master is an angry old man. All his life he has looked to place the blame of his own misery onto someone else's shoulders. Rather like your Anakin. They will never be happy until they take responsibility for their own lives, actions, and happiness.”

“Was,” Obi-Wan corrected in a whisper. “He was an angry old man. It was his blade that killed me. And Anakin... Anakin killed him.”

There was a long silence, and then Obi-Wan glanced up into Qui-Gon's face, almost timid. “I let your grandson kill your father.”  
Qui-Gon met his gaze with a sad look. “You are not at fault for Dooku's choices. No matter what took place, ultimately Dooku was an adult, he knew better, and he made decisions again and again and again.”

“He said you would have followed him.”

Qui-Gon sighed. “I followed my conscience before people. When you follow people without regard to your conscience, that's when evil takes over. Dooku couldn't understand the difference between the loyalty of free thinking beings, and a mindless lack of autonomy. He thought that because I loved him, I would have accepted everything he did and would have joined him in it. That I would never hold him to account. I loved him, but he was  _ wrong,  _ and I wouldn't help him hurt people just because I didn't want him to feel I'd betrayed him.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Perhaps you can find ways to pardon me, but the fact remains that I'm a the common denominator in so many disasters.” He hissed, trying to shove away the pain that was still viciously incapacitating, but he sank to his knees, shoulders hunched in spite of his best efforts. Despite what Anakin clearly thought right this minute... “They're better off without me.”  
Qui-Gon knelt in front of him. “None of them are going to think so, though selfishly, I'm glad you finally found me again. I  _ missed  _ you, so terribly, my Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan risked a look into his face, found sorrow and fierce joy mingled in his expression.

_ Aayhan. _

That's the word Satine would have used. The bittersweet moment of both rememberance and celebration.

According to the Mandalorians...

That's where true happiness lay. Not in the absence of pain, but in the tempering of it.

Obi-Wan reached out to touch Qui-Gon's cheek with his palm.

There was victory to be found in this moment, as well as his self-hate and regret.

_ Qui-Gon. _

“Thank you for being here when I arrived. I went from the arms of my Padawan to the arms of my Master, not for a second was I alone.”

“You would have had more company, but somebody thought you should have some time alone with me first and carried the day by sheer force of will.”

Obi-Wan frowned as the pain wracking his body numbed, then eased away. The newly-dead Jedi drew in what felt like his first real lungful of air since his vicious wounding back... when he'd been alive.

_ Sleep well, my Anakin. Find peace for a few hours at least. For both our sakes. _

“Somebody?” Obi-Wan echoed.

And then he  _ felt  _ something, and he couldn't breathe again.

Lunging up and around he saw  _ her. _

It took him half a second to reach her and fall to his knees again, catching up her hand and pressing its palm to his cheek, struggling to breathe as he crushed the hand between his own and his head—

“Welcome home.”

New tears coursed down his cheeks at the sound of her voice.

“Sat'ika.”

Gentle fingers rested on the top of his head. “Hmm. I like how that sounds. Whatever happened to the belief that my name was too beautiful to be shortened?”  
“It died when you did. Everything died when you did.”

“Stand, warrior-heart.”  
He obeyed, finally daring to look into her eyes. He had a terrible, irrational fear that they would look the way they had when she lay dead in his arms. Empty,  _ gone— _

But no. They were warm.  _ Here. _

He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed them to her knuckles. He poured every ounce of his adoration and gratitude into the gesture, knowing she would understand.

“Obi, there are others who wish to see you too.”

Obi-Wan's eyes moved to look past her, but they ended up trapped as alarm swept through him. His arm swept out, a scooping motion that placed Satine behind him as he wished like  _ hell  _ for his lightsaber. “Dooku.”

“I was blind,” Dooku said, looking ashamed of himself. “I blinded myself with my own greed. It didn't start out that way. I saw Jedi dying and wanted to stop it.”

Obi-Wan's lip twisted in a sneer. “You killed more of us than any other single enemy in over five thousand years.”

“Emperor Vitiate—”

“You're fripping up your apology.” Not that Obi-Wan was particularly  _ interested  _ in it.

“You're right. I'm a proud man, Obi-Wan. Arrogant. It's not—  _ easy  _ to admit, even now. Sidious used that against me. I thought I knew better than everyone else. That I had some secret understanding, some hidden knowledge, something that made me better than everyone else. He fed that. Used it. My own ego and greed for power twisted me.”

“You claimed to leave the Order because of Qui-Gon's death, and then you chose to serve the man responsible.”

“Not my finest hour.”

Obi-Wan didn't move from his defensive position. “I would have been happy to never see you again. You killed me just  _ minutes  _ ago.”  _ And right now my Anakin is passed out by my corpse, too wounded and heartbroken and exhausted to drag himself to base.  _ “For the Arena alone—”

The heat of the sand, Dooku's holier-than-thou  _ tripe  _ as he condemned so  _ many  _ to death, the sickest thing of it all the fact he  _ believed  _ he had some moral high ground as he set fire to the explosives that would plunge the galaxy into a  _ hell  _ that ripped millions of families apart, left those who survived so  _ broken  _ that many wished they  _ hadn't—  _ left wounds that would never be  _ escaped— _

“In Sundari, you were willing to extend a hand of friendship to Maul. You  _ wanted  _ him to take it.”

“He was a baby, stolen from his mother and made a weapon by a man who cared  _ nothing  _ for his well being.  _ You knew better.  _ You were the  _ wise  _ and  _ loved  _ Dooku, a man who'd left the Order, but whom we all  _ looked up to  _ regardless of it. We  _ trusted  _ you, and you murdered  _ so many  _ of us before the war even  _ started.  _ What had we  _ done  _ to you to deserve that?  _ Differences in opinions  _ on  _ politics  _ gave you the right to slaughter your  _ family _ ? What the  _ frak was wrong with you? _ ”

No one said a word, Dooku simply looking shocked.

Hell,  _ Obi-Wan  _ was shocked. But he couldn't find the will to stop.

“You claimed that everything you did was in Qui-Gon's memory, but you butchered  _ everything  _ he  _ ever  _ loved and would have  _ gladly  _ died a  _ thousand  _ times to protect. You  _ fripping arsehole! _ ”

“I—”

“And  _ then  _ you had the gall to act as if  _ we  _ were the ones who'd somehow betrayed  _ you. _ As if we  _ deserved  _ to  _ die  _ because our commitment to democracy demanded that we not just  _ do whatever the hell we felt like  _ and instead wanted to be accountable to the  _ elected  _ representatives of the people.”

“It takes two parties to fight—”

“What could you  _ expect  _ from my family when you were going to illegally  _ butcher  _ not just  _ me,  _ but one of the few  _ decent  _ senators  _ left _ ? You want to bring about positive political change? You don't start by  _ killing the honest ones. _ Where the  _ frak  _ was your brain, Dooku? So  _ yes.  _ Of course the Jedi tried to stop you from  _ killing us. _ And then you took that droid army of yours out and started  _ pillaging  _ planets.”

“I  _ said  _ I made mistakes—”

“A  _ mistake  _ is when you say something unkind and accidentally hurt someone. A  _ mistake  _ is when you punch your friend in the nose for being an arse. A  _ mistake  _ is spelling someone's name wrong. Premeditated  _ mass murder  _ is not a  _ mistake.  _ Creating bioweapons that burn  _ civilian populations  _ from the inside out and releasing it in  _ hospitals  _ and  _ schools  _ is not a  _ mistake.  _ I held  _ children  _ in my arms as they spewed their  _ guts  _ out because of  _ direct orders  _ from  _ you,  _ Dooku. Political idealist my  _ arse. _ ”

“You wanted to prop up a corrupt government.”

Obi-Wan took several steps closer. “And you wanted to create one on the foundation of the Trade Federation, Commerce Guilds, Techno Union, and Banking Clan. When we restarted peace negotiations for the creation of a  _ separate Confederate state,  _ you  _ bombed  _ Coruscant and  _ murdered one of your own senators  _ to make sure the negotiations fell through. I don't know what the  _ frak  _ you are, but I'm  _ not  _ going to just let you off the hook because you think you had  _ justification.  _ Pointing fingers at the Order and calling  _ us  _ warmongers only has relevance if you  _ aren't  _ one yourself.” Obi-Wan turned his back on him, not caring if the older man could do him harm here. “Go frip yourself.”

He was startled by Qui-Gon bursting into laughter.

He sent his former master a vicious look, based in confusion and anger that hadn't quite gone away yet—

“He was harder on you than  _ I  _ was.” Qui-Gon guffawed again, wiping at his eyes.

Dooku scowled. “I hadn't thought that level of vitriol  _ possible. _ ”

“You deserved it,” Satine pointed out.

Dooku hesitated.

“You  _ did, _ ” Qui-Gon chimed in.

“ _ I'll  _ say.”

Obi-Wan spun around again, eyes wide. That was a  _ clone  _ voice. “ _ Waxer? _ ”

The man gave him a smile. “There's a whole lot of us here, General. Plenty of them want to see you. They sent me to fetch you away from Count-I'm-Dead-But-I-Still-Want-To-Argue-Politics.”

“Please. Get me the hell away from here.” Obi-Wan moved closer and surprised all present by yanking the clone into a fierce hug. “Damn it, Waxer.”

“Sir?”

“I should have  _ seen  _ through Krell's facade. I should have  _ known. _ ”

“You couldn't have, Sir. Even the brothers there  _ with  _ him didn't figure it out until it was too late, and you weren't even in the same hemisphere.”

Obi-Wan held him at arms' length and shook his head. “Other than Dooku, it seems people here want to strip me of personal responsibility. Alright, Waxer. Take me to your brothers.” He threw a suddenly concerned glance back at his love. “Satine?”

“Oh, Mom's coming,” Waxer reassured him.

Obi-Wan's eyes went wide. “ _ Mom _ ?” he repeated, staring at Satine, a slow grin creeping across his face.

Satine shrugged. “I had to find  _ something  _ to keep me occupied while you took a  _ very long time  _ to join me here.”

 

* * *

 

Qui-Gon smiled to himself as Obi-Wan was engulfed with excited clones, men delighted their General had finally come home. He smiled as Obi-Wan stared adoringly, almost breathlessly into Satine's eyes every few minutes, clearly afraid she would vanish never to be found again.

He smiled as he recognized the moment Anakin came to and contacted Ahsoka, and word spread through the Temple. It brought Obi-Wan writhing to the ground, cursing fit to shake the heavens.

_ You never believed yourself loved. _

By the time the still-living beings had finished with him, he was never going to be able to doubt it again.

A myriad of gentle clone hands helped him through it while he stared up into Satine's eyes, clinging to her promise that he would survive it.

Dooku moved to stand beside Qui-Gon, still clearly grumpy.

“The boy has a mouth on him.”

“ _ Yes. _ ”

“You didn't break him of it.”

“Of course not.”

“Do you have  _ any  _ idea what he turned Skywalker into in your absence?”

“Skywalker made himself.”

“Even Kenobi's  _ grand-Padawan  _ is infected by this disgusting need to  _ mouth off.  _ You may have  _ disobeyed,  _ but at least you were  _ respectful  _ while you were doing it.”

Qui-Gon shrugged. “I'm a parent, not a template. So was Obi-Wan, so is Anakin. Ultimately, we decide who we become. And I'm very proud of them all.”

“ _ You  _ would be.”

“Yoda is too.”

“ _ He  _ would be.”

“Dooku, you  _ do  _ realize you're the  _ only one  _ who has a problem with any of this?”

“It just means all the rest of you are ignorant peons.”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “You're such a fripping idiot.”

“Kenobi's corrupting even  _ you. _ ”

Qui-Gon pulled the older man into an embrace, shaking his head in frustration. “I love you, old man, but Obi-Wan's right. You're a complete and utter 'arsehole.' People would be more willing to forgive you if you could find a little humility  _ somewhere  _ in that thick skull of yours.”

“There's a  _ reason  _ I was never a very good Jedi, Qui-Gon.”

_ I do believe this is the first time I've ever heard him admit  _ that.  _ So we have made some progress. _

Qui-Gon squeezed tighter as Dooku tried to squirm away.

“Obi-Wan inherited your aversion to hugs, though he seems to have gotten over it here.”  
“It's the pain and shock,” grumped Dooku. “If there's  _ any  _ shred of decency left in him, he'll  _ recover. _ ”

“Then I find myself rather hoping he's indecent for the rest of his existence.”

Obi-Wan heard that last bit and sent Qui-Gon a  _ very  _ strange look indeed.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The official chapter 2 for this story, separate from the alternate version.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With Palpatine demanding Anakin's presence, Yoda the best fit for Kashyyyk, and everyone everywhere else, Windu is the one who has to go to Utapau to take on Grievous. That leaves Anakin in charge at the Temple. Absolutely. Since Shaak Ti isn't present during this particular story, he is the only Council member on Coruscant.
> 
> Thus, when Sidious makes his offer to save Padmé, Anakin has no one to turn to. This isn't something he can speak of over comms; he has to either deal with this now or wait until someone gets back.
> 
> And there's ten thousand people, who've put their trust in him, hanging in the balance.

 

“I miss you,” Anakin breathed, staring at Obi-Wan's empty council seat. “I  _ miss you,  _ and sometimes I can't  _ breathe. _ ”

Only silence met his whispers.

“I don't know what I should do,” he pleaded.

The silence felt accusing.

“No,” he admitted. “I  _ do  _ know what I  _ should  _ do. If Palpatine is the Sith, that means he's Dooku's master. It means this war is a farce. It means that every clone out there dying is simply being robbed of life to bring more power to Palpatine.”

Anakin knelt before the chair. “I'm not _good_ with the politics, Master. _Help me,_ please.”  
_You do not need it,_ a voice within him suggested. _He believed in you. Completely._ _You may not be good with politics, but you are good with war. This is strategy. What could Palpatine hope to gain?_

Anakin looked back over recent history, realized a  _ lot  _ of power had been centered in the Chancellor as an individual. Padmé had always been against it, Anakin had never understood  _ why,  _ it made  _ sense  _ to do that—

Except... it was happening because of the war.

And the war was fake.

_ And the war has made the Jedi very unpopular. Palpatine's turned Grievous and Dooku loose to kill as many Jedi as they can. _

And hundreds had already fallen.

More.

There used to be ten thousand of them.

Anakin didn't dare count them now.

Anakin might believe in a strong leadership position, but Palpatine... Palpatine clearly wasn't fit to hold that throne.

He didn't have  _ time  _ to think about this, every second was stealing away another of Padmé's life—

_ Patience. Think. _

Words his Master had repeated  _ so  _ many times, words he'd never valued until the voice had been silenced forever.

Strange, how you never value something until it's been taken away.

Anakin took a deep breath, tried to still the panicking of his mind.

_ Sometimes, a step back is required to make a great leap forward. _

Again, his master's words, from so long ago now, on Iego.

_ And sometimes, all that's needed is the will to jump,  _ Anakin had retorted at the time.

_ Padmé's life was on the line then too,  _ he realized.  _ And my leap didn't get us anywhere. We had to out-think the problem. _

_ What do I know? If Palpatine was an opposing general, and I was trying to outmaneuver him on a battlefield... _

_ He picks a time to speak to me when I have to make a decision in a short space of time. He picks a time when no one is here for me to turn to, no one to ask for help or advice.  _

_He picks a time Obi-Wan is gone._

_ According to Grievous, he's been given orders to kill as many Jedi as possible. Dooku went out of his way to kill us. It seems to be as important, if not more so, than winning the war. In fact, they'd have been more likely to win the war faster if Grievous wasn't committing wartime atrocities. Systems that would have been Separatist have refrained from joining them  _ because  _ of Grievous' actions. _

Time after time, hearing Palpatine tell him he was  _ powerful,  _ wise, the  _ wisest  _ of the Jedi, that he would  _ surpass them all. _

_ If this whole war is about giving Palpatine power, and the Senate is on board, and the Separatists are helping because they don't realize Dooku served Palpatine, then the only people who could stand in his way are the Jedi. _

_He's going to take the Jedi out next._

_ And the only person standing between him and a Temple full of the wounded and children is... _

_Me._

Anakin felt a chill run down his back.

_ He wants to rush me, scare me, stroke my ego into swearing allegiance to him. And then what? He can't just kill the Jedi and get away— _

Anakin's mind stuttered.

_ What if it didn't look like the Chancellor was responsible? _

It wouldn't be the first time a clone lost his mind and slew his Jedi.

_ “Good soldiers follow orders.” _

_ Dooku is Tyranus.  _ They'd learned that on Oba Diah. _ Tyranus arranged for the clones to be made. _

_Behavior chips. Chips that when they malfunction, Jedi die._

_Palpatine could easily say the Separatists introduced a virus to the clones, that the Jedi genocide was a terrible cruelty on the part of the Separatists._

_Turn the Jedi into mourned martyrs._

_No longer in his way._

But there were too many Jedi flung across the galaxy. There was no way to infect  _ all  _ the clones—

_ Unless it's already been done. _

Anakin's heart thundered in his ears.  _ Sweet Force. _

He was on his feet in an instant.

_ I need to get the clones out of the Temple; and shut the Temple down completely. Begin a siege until the others return. _

If he gave the recall signal, the Separatists would sweep forward. The odds of winning this war were ever shrinking, Anakin had heard a tactical droid state that the Republic only had a thirty percent chance of winning.

_ And that's  _ if  _ we don't abandon every battleground across the galaxy. _

If he called  _ anyone  _ to warn them, the likelihood of it getting back to Palpatine...

_ Terrifyingly good. And the last thing I want is for him to crunch his timetable. He's been working on this for at least thirteen years. _

He gathered the clones together, informed them that he'd decided, as the commanding officer on Coruscant, to allow them a surprise day's furlough while he brought in his 501 st to watch the Temple.

The men cheered, darted away, making happy comments about Skywalker's methods.

Anakin did  _ not  _ call the 501 st in.

Instead, he had every able-bodied Jedi locking the entire place  _ down,  _ and that included closing off the lower levels _. _

_Too many chances for an ancient secret way in._

Since far too many of the patients could not be moved, Anakin turned the Halls of Healing into the last line of defense, the final hold position. He had the children moved there, directed Padawans in constructing barriers, giving orders on which halls to hold, which to give, seeing the hallowed halls as strategic ground.

_ Once Palpatine realizes we know, he'll have two options. _

_Send the clones to break the siege and claim they're under Separatist control..._

_Which might be a bit of a stretch to believe, since breaking into the closed Temple will take significant effort, and unless there's an opening I've missed, days if not weeks of massive damage..._

_No. That first one isn't likely, not in the face of the second._

_Brand us traitors, and order the clones to take us out._

The virus clearly could make even the kindest, most loyal clone lose it. Anakin  _ knew  _ Tup. Knew how much he adored the Jedi.

_ Yes. That is why the war has been distancing the people from us, while Palpatine vocally upholds us. Look at the Chancellor, he's always defended them, always believed them, he never wanted to believe ill of them, and now he's saying they've betrayed the Republic. _

Who were the Senators and populations going to believe?

_ I'm sorry, Fives. I'm so sorry. I really messed up. _

_ He knows my weaknesses. He knows my  _ every  _ weakness. _

_I've told him._

Suddenly, all of Obi-Wan's reservations about Palpatine flooded back to haunt Anakin.

_ Why would I trust Palpatine over the man who was raising me? Who clearly loved me? _

That answer was easy too, from this vantage point.

_ Because he made it seem wise. Made it seem utterly foolish to trust Obi-Wan, or any of the other Jedi, and flattered me with how smart I was. He spoke as if he knew I wasn't dumb like others, and I, in my pride, didn't want to protest, because that would be to make me look stupid in the eyes of the most powerful man in the galaxy. _

_The slave boy who grew up to have the Chancellor of the Republic for his mentor._

Disgust flooded Anakin's soul.  _ I've been played. _

He drew out his comlink, knowing there was one last thing he  _ had  _ to do.

“Padmé. I need to talk to you.”

“I have a meeting I need to attend, Ani—”

“Where are you?”

“At home, but I'll be leaving in a—”

“Padmé, on your way to the meeting, swing by the Temple. There's something I need to say.”

She sighed. “Alright, but this had better be quick.”

Anakin waited beside the one open landing platform.

_ Please. Please make it. Please. _

Because he could see only one other option.

_ Once Palpatine finds out, he will try to force my hand. _

_And he will use her._

_He's already been using her against me._

Anakin didn't know how he was going to protect Padmé from his dreams, but he  _ did  _ know that Palpatine was  _ not  _ the way to do it.

_ The best healers in the galaxy are here, having sworn oaths to save as many innocent lives as possible. _

_Who the father isn't won't matter to them._

_Life will matter._

He had no doubt their secret would come out. He had no idea how he would deal with any of it.

_ But surviving the night is what we have to do first. _

_And we might not._

So worrying about anything farther ahead was just going to have to wait.

 

* * *

 

Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan, whose gaze followed Anakin with a whole-bodied terror that made Qui-Gon's soul weep for him.

Obi-Wan occasionally spoke aloud, or even tried to touch Anakin, but never once could he reach past the barrier between dimensions.

And finally, he let loose a yell of utter frustration and walked to join Qui-Gon, fists clenched at his sides.

Qui-Gon pulled him into a hug as Obi-Wan seethed.

“I should be there,” Obi-Wan groaned. “He  _ needs me— _ ”

“You trained him well,” Qui-Gon countered. “He has everything he needs to survive and protect his family. All ten thousand and three of them.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, trembling in Qui-Gon's arms. “What if it's not enough?”  
“Do you believe in him?”

“With everything I am.”

“Then trust him to see through Palpatine's lies.”

“ _ Sir _ !” Fives called, excited, delighted. “He's preparing the Temple for a fight!”

Obi-Wan exploded from Qui-Gon's arms, twisting around to see for himself.

 

* * *

 

“There is something wrong,” Vokara announced, lekku twitching with frustration and anxiety. “There is something  _ dark— _ ”

“What are you saying?” Padmé tried to keep her voice steady.

Vokara looked her square in the eye. “Someone has done something to you, to try to kill you and the babies.”

_ Anakin's dreams. _

“What do we do about it?”

“We fight back.  _ That  _ is what we do, Senator. We fight back.”

And from the feral gleam in the healer's eye, Padmé knew she meant to fight back with everything in her arsenal.  
  


* * *

 

_ With Padmé safe and the Temple secured, next step? _

_Warn the others._

The instant the warning went out it was likely Palpatine would try to get ahead of the alert.

_ I have to find a way to warn them simultaneously. _

The warning beacon.

Anakin didn't like being away from his wife's side, but he knew it was a matter of trust.

The healers trusted him to fight to keep them all safe.

He needed to trust them to keep his wife safe.

That was the reality of battle.

It took careful focus to recalibrate the beacon and to record his message, and but heartbeat to send it.

_ Please, please— _

And then death was spilling through the Force, so cruel and precise it dragged him to his knees.

 

* * *

 

Jedi and clones stumbled in together, panicking as they caught sight of one another.

Those already there tried to help, calming them, explaining what was happening.

Obi-Wan stood frozen.

Thousands upon thousands of clones marched on the Temple, the full might of the Republic brought to bear.

 

* * *

 

That night would forever be a blur to Anakin Skywalker.

He didn't have enough bodies to defend the Temple, and it would take far too long for the Jedi abandoning the war to make their way home.

Hours of hyperspace travel, even  _ if _ they managed to get to Coruscant's surface without being shot from the sky.

As hours dragged past, Anakin realized...

_ We're all going to die. _

Something was destroying his wife, he had no doubt Palpatine was responsible, and he couldn't be there, by her side.

He hadn't felt this helpless since Obi-Wan slipped away in his arms.

_ Oh, Master, we'll all be joining you shortly. _

_Be there to meet us, please._

_I'll need you there to meet me._

 

* * *

 

Many,  _ so many  _ Jedi escaped.

The influx had stopped, a few hundred new arrivals the grand total.

Except those coming from the Temple.

Jedi beyond Coruscant were struggling to find one another, to come up with a plan to slip into the best-defended planet in the galaxy...

But by the time they arrived...

It was far too late.

 

* * *

 

“Master Skywalker.”

“I have to get back to the walls, Master Che, they  _ need me there. _ ” Anakin tried to still the trembling of sheer exhaustion in his legs.

The Twi'lek looked grim. “We're not going to be able to hold on long enough for help to get here, even if it's coming.”

“There's nowhere to go.”  
“That isn't true. There are access tunnels in the lower levels of Coruscant. An entire warren of them, lying empty.” Vokara handed him a folded flimsi. “Get the children, get them out.”

“There's  _ three hundred  _ younglings, and that's not counting the young Padawans!”

“Get them  _ out,  _ Skywalker. We're going to hold the halls and buy you time.”

“I can't protect three hundred kids from the gangs down there,” Anakin warned.

Vokara's eyes saddened. “I know. As far as we know, these access tunnels have not been discovered by Black Sun.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“We have to try, Anakin.”  
“And what of the wounded that cannot be moved?”  
“All of the adult wounded are staying here. We've spoken with them. Those able to hold weapons will fight to buy you time. Those who can't, know they would slow you down. They wish you Forcespeed. Go, Skywalker. Save them.”  
“Tell me Padmé can walk,” he pleaded.

“She's considering staying here and fighting.”

Anakin's throat constricted. “I'm going to need more than one adult down there, and someone with ties to the Senate would help.”

“Ani, I can't just leave these people to die for us to escape,” Padmé said, walking down the hall towards them. “I'm sorry.”  
“Please come with me,” he begged, tears in his eyes. “If we're going to survive down there, we're going to need help. Senate help.”

“Anakin... there is death inside me.” Padmé placed her hand on his forearm. “I will not escape it.”

“But if you fight hard, Senator, you may be able to save the babies,” Vokara pointed out. “And that is  _ well  _ worth doing. Enough of us are staying behind.  _ Go.  _ Please. Let  _ two  _ of my patients live, at least.”

 

* * *

 

Anakin knelt by his wife, feeling his heart break by inches.

Crying babies and toddlers, ten-year-olds trying to soothe the smaller ones' wretched cries, preteens guarding the passages, unignited lightsaber hilts clutched in their hands.

Children who'd been training to be healers, far too young, hovered near Padmé, trying to help in any way they could. Anakin could feel their desperate attempts in the Force.

Could sense their futility.

“I'm sorry,” Anakin whispered.

Padmé shook her head. “These two are going to  _ live, _ ” she promised.

“How am I going to keep several hundred children alive?  _ And  _ two newborns?”

“You're Anakin Skywalker,” his wife murmured. “They're your children. All of them. You'll find a way.”

A tear slipped down his cheek. “Please. Keep fighting.”

Padmé squeezed his hand. “Always.” She rolled her head to look up at the attempting healers. “Can you induce labor?”

They looked to one another in desperate anxiety.

One girl stepped forward. “I've seen it done,” she said, holding her chin up and trying desperately to be brave.

“Do it,” Padmé directed, drawing in a deep breath. “I won't last long enough to do this naturally.”

“Please don't go,” Anakin whimpered.

She crushed the bones of his hand. “I know,” she choked back. “I know.”  
“I can't do this alone.” His voice failed utterly, lost in his anguish.

“You're all these children have. They need you.”

“They need you too.”

“Hold on, Anakin. Don't worry about me, I'll find my way.”

Anakin shook his head. “No. There is no way. It's over, when—”

“I know that's what you believe. But it doesn't matter. Whatever I am, whatever I become, even if it's nothingness itself, I will be with you and watch over you. I know you don't believe in life after death. But believe in  _ me. _ ”

He shook his head, unable to speak.

“I'm sure Obi-Wan is kneeling beside you, right now, heart breaking because he can't take this from you. Wishing it was him, instead.”  
“He was here before us, you know,” Anakin whispered. “He held his love as she passed.”

Padmé gave him a weak smile. “It didn't break him.”

“He's stronger than me.”

“Strength is something you gain through hardship. Oh, my Anakin, you will survive this and be stronger for it. Hold on to your light. When all other lights go out, hold on to yours.  _ Promise  _ me.”

Anakin clenched his eyes shut, sobbing. Forcing his eyes open again, meeting her own tear-stained ones, he nodded. “I promise.”

He held her hand through a labor that progressed too quickly. Kissed her forehead, her knuckles, soothed her with his voice and his tenderness.

Children gathered around, children who had lost everything, everyone, and they watched him, desperate for hope.

He didn't realize they were there.

They watched as he lost everything. Watched his soul tremble under the agony, watched its light holding firm through the darkness of it, watched him weep, watched him put his love before himself.

Watched as he closed her eyes and kissed her one last time.

Watched as he crouched over his newborn children, watched him look up at all of them with blood-shot, devastated eyes.

_ Their  _ eyes in an older frame.

He held out his arms, and as many of them as could press into him did, hugging him and one another in one giant mass of bodies, holding him as they sobbed together. Small hands caught hold of other small hands, endless chains of them, finding courage in the suffering man before them. Small lights burned bright, reaching out to reinforce one another, to save the ones that were drowning in their agony and loss.

Anakin looked up, and realized for the first time that the Jedi  _ were  _ his family.

They hadn't been at first.

And then they'd crept up on him, steadily over the years.

Now he could see it.

Now, at last, he could see it.

He was going to fight for them, until his final breath.

These little ones were his.

And he was theirs.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan was there to catch Padmé as she joined them.

“Easy,” he murmured. “Easy, Senator.”

If  _ he'd  _ suffered the first few months after  _ his  _ death, he was anticipating Padmé to suffer vastly worse.

His focus on soothing her skipped a beat as he saw Anakin choosing to reach out through his pain to others who desperately needed him present with them.

It was beautiful. Tears of pride and love stung Obi-Wan's eyes.

But for now, there was nothing he could do for his brother.

The only thing he could do was try to make Padmé's transition into existence here as gentled as possible.

_ Be brave, my brother. _

_ There is so much still to fight for. _

 


End file.
